Closed Doors
by KidxMaka4eva
Summary: Haven't done this in a while. Just working on something. Meh.


Chapter One

 **Death the Kid**

I sat to watch the rain drizzle across the window on this stormy Sunday night. Watching as every drop of rain slithered down the glass, eventually rolling from the edge of the window pane and towards the ground where it would then be swallowed, along with all the others.

My forehead stung against the windows icy surface, as if the cold from the outside was attempting to snatch me from inside, and force me to join its army of bitterness.

I fixated my dark golden eyes on the house that rested opposite my own, the both of our homes located on either sides of a deserted muddy road.

The house was white; its paint was chipping and it desperately needed redoing, but regardless it was white. A busted wooden gate blew hastily in the wind at the end of the house's footpath, creating a thundering thump with every time it smacked up against the fence behind it. Dead flowers bent forwards across the front garden, as if they were desperate to escape the poisonous tension that surrounded that place. And finally, at the top of the porch steps there sat the front door. It's red paint cracked from the amount of times it had been slammed, punched or even kicked, and the what was once two beautiful stained glass windows fitted in the doors panels, now boarded up from the destruction of two angry fists that couldn't hold their alcohol.

The front door opened slowly, and out stepped the small fragile women who lived opposite. She walked quickly in her long pink dressing gown towards the end of her walk, grasping hold of two black sacks that seemed to weigh her down with every step she continued to take.

But I knew it wasn't the rubbish weighing her down.

She then chucked the two sacks over the fence and onto the pavement, where they would be collected the following morning by the rubbish collector.

Before turning back inside she folded her arms across her chest and remained there a little longer, her standing still allowing me to examine the new bruise she wore upon the left side of her pale face.

She looked from left to right, as if she was praying for someone to ask her what had happened, and then save her from this life she was trapped in. She turned her head multiple times, but still no body came.

The wind pulled at her blonde messy bun that sat tiredly on the top of her delicate body, the gloomy night somewhat succeeding to demolish her completely as she then proceeded to lean against the garden fence.

She was tired. So tired that she leaned against the fence more than she wanted to, in hope that maybe it would snap beneath her tiny existence.

But as she continued to stand there; the snap never came, and it pained me to see how badly she desired it to.

She tipped her head back to face the dull and dirty sky, her snow like skin glistening with every drop of rain splashed upon her.

For a moment – she was free.

The front door slammed open once again, causing the woman to turn round abruptly and watch as her drunken husband paced towards her.

I sat up in my chair, pulling my forehead from the window.

He grasped a light pink shirt tightly in his tattooed hand, and used his other to grab the women by her wrist.

"Can't you do anything right?" I heard him yell. "You stupid girl!"

"I'm sorry!" she screamed as he pulled her towards the house. "It was an accident!"

He dragged her up the porch steps and pushed her back through the front door, where she collided with the blue china vase that held their umbrellas.

But that vase too shattered like this women's hopes and dreams, and scattered across the floor like the glass that had once rested patiently in their front door.

Tossing the shirt aside, the man grabbed at the belt around his waist.

"Why do you never learn!"

He pulled it from the loops around his trousers, allowing it to slip through his fingers and clank against the damp pavement on their porch.

"You'll learn this time, I swear."

I watched fearfully as he stepped into the house after her, slamming the door closed behind him.

The red door shook behind him and shook the nerves inside me. The red screaming 'danger' over and over again.

My hands trembled as I leapt for my phone that rested on the bed behind me, my fingers shaking so vigorously that I struggled to punch in the emergency number.

"Come on, come on, come on..." I muttered pressing the phone to my ear.

It rang once, and the door was still closed.

Again, "emergency operator, how can I help you?"

"The man opposite me, he's beating his wife again!"

I heard her pressing buttons on the other end, "what is the address, sir?"

"13 Berry Road, Death City." I couldn't stop shaking.

"Okay," she breathed deeply. "I've dispatched police and paramedics to that location."

I stammered, "what should I do?"

"Sit tight and wait for the police to arrive," she replied. "What is your name?"

"Kid." My throat felt so dry. "My name is Death the Kid."

"Okay Kid, can you describe what is happening?"

I looked back towards the house, wanting desperately to see the pale blonde lady stumble outside to safety.

I couldn't feel my chest. "The door's closed, I can't see anything!"

"Kid, I need you to calm down," she said with genuine concern in her voice. "Take a deep breath, can you hear anything?"

I placed my forehead against the window once more, staring towards the scarily silent house that rested before me. Slowly pulling the phone down to my chest, I waited patiently for any signs of existence within the building before me.

A soft sound brushed against the tip of my ears, a distant screaming, a distant yelling, the sounds of anger and the innocent sound of fear.

"She's screaming," I replied. "God, what is he doing to her!"

Something darted in front of their kitchen window, running from one side of the kitchen to the other. It happened again, and again, shards of white glass bounding off their light green walls.

I bit my lower lip. "I think plates are being thrown."

"The police are almost there Kid."

The little women was pushed into the wall on the right of the kitchen window, her monstrous husband remaining unseen on the other side.

She cowered behind her arms as she sunk to the china shattered ground, a long blood dripping wound trailing down the inside of her right forearm from where she had collided with the china vase.

"I didn't want to do this!" the drunk yelled. "But you leave me no choice!"

"Kid!" the operator exclaimed in my ear.

The women screamed at the top of her lungs. "No, please don't!"

"Kid, what's happening!"

I froze, "I think..."

I could see something black sticking out from behind the curtains, a long black rectangle aiming towards the women's defenseless body.

"What do you think!"

"Please!" the lady cried. "Don't do this!"

I couldn't move, "I think..."

Police sirens were screeching in the distance.

"Kid!"

"He's got a-"

Something snapped.

And she fell to the floor.


End file.
